


Edelweiss

by Piplup212



Series: Karaoke Snufmin [1]
Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime)
Genre: ADHD, Anxiety, Coming Out, Ill add more tags as I see fit, M/M, Sensory Overload, Song Lyrics, Trichotillomania, for now... tada, have you SEEN the way that boy treats his tail, its my moomin fic and i get to inject lyrics from the sound of music, moomin has ttm, snufkin has adhd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-02-29 20:58:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18786088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piplup212/pseuds/Piplup212
Summary: Edelweiss, EdelweissEvery morning you greet meSmall and white, clean and brightYou look happy to meet meBlossom of snow may you bloom and growBloom and grow foreverEdelweiss, EdelweissBless my homeland forever





	1. Edelweiss, Edelweiss

Snufkin has never truly had a clear mind.

He doesn't mind it, really. One may think, with how insistent he is in his refusal to be tied down or restricted, that his mind would be overwhelming, suffocating even. It isn't, though. In fact, it is the reason he feels so free come his time to leave for the winter. He is left alone with his thoughts and they are allowed to roam free. They never stayed in one place often, grabbing onto anything they'd find remotely interesting, making his adventuring all that much more exciting.

Of course, he has these same privileges in Moominvalley, it just isn't quite the same. In Moominvalley, he almost always has people in his general vicinity, most often Moomin. He doesn't mind it, as long as they keep their distance, but it can lead to some odd questions when he has to explain to Moomin how he managed to, in barely a second, get onto the concept of if there are beehives in the valley that he could gather honey from after staring at his bright orange tent. And of course it's rather simple, you see, the orange of his tent reminds him of the fruit of the same name, and that makes him think of their trees and the blossoms that grow on them, then the bees that pollinate those flowers, and the honey those bees make. 

He finds himself rethinking this exact series of thoughts one morning in very late winter. Bees. The bees remind him of the white flowers in spring that will soon wake up from their winter slumber to welcome his first step into the valley. They bring him into the new season, back into Moominvalley, to wait on the bridge for a certain sometroll to wake and come running his way.

Snufkin's rapid daydream is interrupted by a chunk of snow falling from the tree above him, hitting him in the face and chilling his nose. He sputters, spitting out pieces of snow. He looks above him to the source of the snow and sees that it’s melting in the area it fell from.

“The last day of winter…” He looks down the path he had settled on, seeing a blue and red speck on the horizon, framed by the trees that line the path. His heart grows at the prospect of returning to the valley, to the Moomins and the Snorks and the rest of the valley’s residents. He even knows he’ll be happy to see Little My, as odd as that may seem. She’s grown to be… kinder to her half brother. Not kind. Just kinder.

He bundles up his tent, shoving his few belongings into his rucksack except his harmonica and beginning his march down the path. 

He’s only a few steps down the path when his racing heart is gripped by a cold, unforgiving hand, the same one that immediately takes a grip on his stomach, twisting it and tying it in knots. Would they even want him back? He’s found that the behavior he’s exhibited in the past year or so, particularly around Moomin, has gotten him some odd looks. He never took the time to decipher what the looks held in them, but he felt he knew they were looks of judgment. His mind flashes images of these looks people shot him and his legs nearly buckle under him.

Don’t be silly. They love you.

This thought causes his innards to curl up even more, the concept of people waiting for him, expecting him. He couldn’t dare to be late, or he’d hurt them. Hurt them by being late, by not making it on time. Oh, imagine what it’d do to Moomin, his dearest friend.

Just the thought of his down-soft friend manages to pry away the freezing grip over his heart and stomach. He takes in a deep breath and it shudders out as he puts a smile back on his face and his paws around the straps of his pack. Then he starts his trek to the valley.

It’s a slow pace at first. He’s considering again if he should even be returning this year, every step for the first half an hour or so becoming heavy with fear. His pace quickly picks up when he thinks about his adventures over the winter, and he thinks about going on his annual tirade with Moomin over them, and he thinks about the look that’ll come over Moomin’s face when he tells him everything, and he thinks, and thinks, and thinks, until he finds himself running full speed towards Moominhouse.

*************************************

When he arrives in the valley just at the end of his path, the sun has set. Snow still covers patches of the ground, but it’s beginning to thaw, revealing the flowers living beneath. Snufkin crouches down and examines them each until a patch of small white flowers with felt petals catches his eye. He steps closer and his breath catches in his chest in awe.

“Edelweiss…” He beams, kneeling down and gathering a few in his paws, ensuring he doesn’t take too many. A bundle of five or so should do. He very delicately places the flowers into his pack, making sure he doesn’t crush them.

He pitches his tent in its usual place near the river, pondering if he should wake Moomin to say hello. This thought doesn’t last long, like the rest, but for a different reason.

His ears pick up on a small sound in the distance.

“Snufkin!”

The sound is like harmony in his ears, bringing pure bliss to his heart. His eyes shoot to Moominhouse and, in its highest window, he sees a white blur making its way down the rope ladder and begin sprinting towards him.

Now, if he was in his right mind and properly tired from running miles before, he’d stroll on up to the bridge and wait nonchalantly for his friend, his tail swishing in his coat all the while. But not tonight.

Something comes over him, a burst of energy, and his feet leave the ground, hitting back down hard as he bounds towards the troll. He sees Moomin's face twist in confusion and he slows down, but Snufkin continues his way, not dropping his pace. Snufkin throws his bag to the ground after crossing the bridge. 

When they collide, they go down in a bundle of giggles, most of them coming from the mumrik's end.

"Snufkin, what on Earth has gotten into you?" Moomin's voice is traced with laughter and dosed with concern, but Snufkin didn't care. Not now.

Snufkin can't even answer Moomin's question, he's laughing so hard. He's giggling like a child for almost a straight minute, and Moomin joins him, but it's all cut off when a snort sneaks its way in, causing his previously bright face to drain of all color. He smacks his paws over his mouth, his eyes widening to the size of the moon and his pupils the size of pin ends.

"Snufkin?"

Snufkin sits up in the grass. "I'm… fine. I'm fine," he mutters through his paws. They're getting clammy on his face, and he's breathing heavy. What were you thinking? What came over you? Why did you do that? 

As his mind speeds by and the sounds around him increase in volume, he feels a cushioned paw against his back, not pressing too firmly. He hears Moomin whisper next to him, scooting forward in the grass towards Snufkin.

“Would you like me to get you your harmonica?”

Snufkin barely manages to choke out his next words. “Please.”

Snufkin sees Moomin get to his feet and run to his pack near the bridge, then starts jogging back. He slows to a gentle stroll as he approaches Snufkin, sitting back down in the grass in front of him, passing him his bag. Snufkin’s paws grasp at it, digging frantically through for his harmonica.

When he feels the cool metal on his fingers, his grip tightens and he pulls out the instrument. He once again throws his bag aside, its contents spilling into the grass, but he couldn’t care less.

His breath hitches in his throat before he begins playing, the same chill on his fingers being felt on his lips. His heart, which he barely noticed was beating out of his chest, slows down and his shoulders relax.

The troll across from him sighs, letting out a weak chuckle. “You alright? That one hit you… kind of out of nowhere.”

Snufkin doesn’t stop playing as he nods, his eyes closing as he gets lost in the vibrations of the instrument and its gentle voice. He plays for what feels like a century when a gasp from lungs other than his own interrupts him. He opens his eyes and sees Moomin holding the bundle of flowers he’d gathered.

Oh no.

It was supposed to be a surprise.

“Edelweiss..? Where did you find this, it doesn’t- it doesn’t grow this far down in the valley.” Moomin looks to him with eyes full of awe, his soft thumb running along the tiny petals of the flowers.

Snufkin collects himself before casually crossing his legs and bringing the harmonica back to his mouth. “I found them at the end of the path, we can go find some in a moment if you’d like.”

“Yes! Yes, yes, I haven’t seen them in so long, they’re…” Moomin looks to him, confused. “Why did you put them in your bag?”

Don’t panic. Don’t panic, don’t panic, don’t panic.

“Well, can’t a fellow bring his friend flowers every once in a while to show he cares? Especially after having been gone for months on end.” He tucks the harmonica into his sleeve, still needing to feel the cold metal on his skin a bit longer.

Moomin seems lost in thought, staring at the flowers intently. He hopes, in the dark of the night, that Moomin can’t see the red flush coming across his face.

“I… You know, I suppose you’re right!” Moomin stands, holding the flowers in one paw and holding the other out to help Snufkin stand. He takes it, linking his paw around Moomin’s wrist, not daring to grasp his paw for fear of another giggling fit, then another snort, and oh, it would all start over again.

“I know. That’s why I said it.” He emphasizes his last sentence by bumping shoulders with the troll, causing them both to give little laughs. “Come on, let’s go find some more of those flowers. I’m sure Mamma would love those for the table come tomorrow morning’s breakfast.”

Moomin’s eyes light up even further, to the point where he might as well take the job of the moon in casting light on the valley. “By my tail, you’re right! She’d be ecstatic, come on!” Moomin races off, grabbing Snufkin by the paw, forcing him to do just that which he claimed he wouldn’t dare to do.

One time wouldn’t hurt, would it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh trust me buddy it would


	2. Every Morning You Greet Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: This chapter has discussions of trichotillomania and hair pulling.

_One time wouldn’t hurt, would it?_

It would. It really, really would.

The moment Moomin’s paw leaves Snufkin’s, it feels empty. Of course, it should, he doesn’t have anything in his paw at that moment, but the emptiness digs further than just that.

It’s nothing. Don’t overreact.

His thoughts shake him back into sense and he realizes they are at the patch of edelweiss flowers near the end of the path. Moomin crouches down, examining the flowers.

“We can’t take that many, this is a tiny patch… Plus, if we pick them all, they won’t spread around.” Moomin pouts, feeling the stems of the flowers.

Snufkin crouches down next to him, plucking a single flower from the patch. “We could always head further into the mountains, there’s plenty more up there. The night is young, we could be back well before sunrise.”

Moomin giggles, giving Snufkin a gentle shove on the shoulder. “You’re so smart.”

Snufkin feels heat come across his face and, in the moonlight, can see that underneath Moomin’s fluffy white fur, his skin is turning a bit pink. Snufkin laughs it off and stands up straight once again. “Well then, let’s get going.” He turns on his heel and begins walking into the mountains. 

He hears the crunch of snow and leaves behind him as Moomin follows close. Their hike into the mountains is silent, they don’t say a word to each other the entire time until they return to the valley, a bouquet of white flowers in Moomin's paws

The sun is about an hour from coming up when they enter the door to Moominhouse, dust covering the ground in a thin layer. Snufkin looks to Moomin and they nod to each other, grabbing brooms and dustpans and dusters, getting to work to make the house as clean as they could make it.

Through the cleaning, when Moomin is looking away, Snufkin holds up his paw and presses in the center with his thumb. Why does it still feel empty?

He shakes the thought away as he goes back to sweeping, brushing dust and cobwebs into the dustpan and scattering it outside. He continues this cycle as Moomin dusts the shelves and wipes down the kitchen until he’s caught off guard by something odd in his dustpan.

A single white hair. 

Snufkin picks up the hair, examining it. It’s fine, soft and short. His eyes scan the ground and he begins to notice more scattered on the floor.

Are these Moomin’s?

His eyes move slowly to the troll scrubbing the stove, then to his tail. Snufkin sees that the hair on the end of his tail is rather sparse, patches of hair missing from where they used to be. Snufkin’s stomach drops and his paw reaches to his brow, feeling the stubble growing in the empty patches. He sighs, tossing the hair into the dustpan and sweeping up the rest. It’s nothing to worry about, he’s sure.

He fiddles with his harmonica in one paw as he goes to dump the last dustpan outside. The sky is beginning to turn a lighter blue, a signal that the sun is to rise and fill the valley with warmth. He heads back in, opening all the curtains in the house and meeting Moomin in the kitchen.

“The sun’s rising. We should watch, it’s quite beautiful the first day of spring.”

Moomin’s tail swishes behind him in excitement and Snufkin can feel his doing the same, trapped in his cloak. His heart rate picks up and he turns away from Moomin and towards the nearest window, staring out at the horizon.

He hears a bit of clattering behind him, then the sink starting and stopping. Moomin returns to his side and places the flowers in a small, clear vase on the kitchen table. Snufkin looks over to the troll, and their eyes meet. Moomin holds out a paw for Snufkin to take, gesturing his head to the stairs.

“We’ll get a better view.”

Snufkin’s heart quickens even more and his tail is moving erratically under the cloak. He takes Moomin’s paw and they make their way up the stairs to Moomin’s bedroom. Moomin unhooks his window and opens it, the frost over it crackling and falling off. Snufkin sees Moomin start climbing out the window and up onto the roof and he giggles, waiting for his turn to climb up.

When they’ve made it onto the roof and settled in, they see sunlight beginning to crest over the mountains, filling the valley with orange light. It hits the top of the chimney of Moominhouse first, then creeps its way down to the tip of Snufkin’s hat. When it makes its way down to the two of them, Snufkin looks over to Moomin, his white fur practically glowing in the sunlight. A red dusting comes over Snufkin’s face and he returns his gaze to the sunrise, resting his paws to his side and leaning back, taking in the warmth. The tips of the short claws on the ends of his fingers tap rhythmically on the roof. His eyes close and his breathing slows as he relaxes. 

He feels the warmth of the sunrise engulfing him, wrapping around him like a swaddled baby. He then feels a different warmth, soft and fluffy, and his fingers stop moving. He cracks an eye open and sees Moomin’s paw holding his fingers, the troll staring at them. He looks between his paw, then Moomin, and Moomin notices. He retreats his paw, turning pink under the white.

“I-I’m so sorry, I’m sorry! I thought you’d fallen asleep, and- and your fingers were moving so I got worried you were- were getting overwhelmed in your sleep, and-”

Snufkin chuckles and sits up, stretching. “Moomin, it’s alright, really.”

“Please don’t be mad.” Moomin sputters out, burying his face in his paws to (unsuccessfully) hide the red flush coming over him.

Snufkin’s words have a lilt to them as he chuckles, keeping his eyes on his friend. “Why would I be mad?” 

“Because I- I did that without asking, and sometimes that gets you overwhelmed and, I don’t want you to get-”

Moomin’s cut off by a finger against his lips and he moves his paws to see that it’s Snufkin’s.

“I could never be mad at you, even if that did happen. You never would have meant it, I know that for a fact.” Snufkin removes his finger from Moomin’s lips, regrettably, and returns his paw to where it was on the roof. “You do everything to help me whenever everything becomes… a bit too much, I could never thank you enough.”

A small, shocked smile comes across Moomin’s face and he returns his gaze to the sunrise. They sit there, watching the sunrise, just the two of them.

Snufkin’s paw feels like it’s burning, itching with emptiness. He begins tapping again, more rapidly, his palm hitting a bit against the shingles. His tail is uncontrollable, threatening to rip the cloak. He forces himself to calm down, and his tail stops swishing, but he’s still tapping his claws.

“Snufkin..?”

Snufkin stops tapping his claws. “I’ll stop. Sorry.” He pulls the brim of his hat a bit lower on his face, just to hide in it the slightest bit.

“N- No, no that’s not… Not what I was going to ask.”

Snufkin turns his head and sees that Moomin is still quite pink, staring at his paw.

“Can… can I..?” He swallows, seeming to be unable to gather his thoughts. Snufkin doesn’t need to hear anything more and he takes his friend’s paw in his own, giving it a small squeeze before returning his gaze to the sunrise.

“Sure, why not?” Snufkin chuckles, tapping his finger once on Moomin’s paw. 

It wasn’t once anymore, was it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for 200 hits already holy moly
> 
> get ready for that trich representation babey


	3. Small and White, Clean and Bright

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: This chapter discusses hair pulling and trichotillomania in some detail. This chapter includes mentions of blood and leg injuries.

It wasn’t once anymore.

It didn’t mean anything. This means nothing. Moomin was Snufkin’s dearest friend, and friends do these kinds of things, don’t they?

… Don’t they?

The hand holding is a thing now. It’s something they do, not in front of other people, of course. They’d get all those looks Snufkin already gets stacked upon itself. He doesn’t want Moomin to go through that. 

 

He’s doing it again.

Snufkin’s compulsion to feel at his eyebrows and maybe, every once in a while, remove one that feels out of place or is overgrowing, has returned. Except it isn’t every once in a while, it’s every day, removing anything that feels wrong, but not even just the ones that feel wrong. He’s tried to hide it from the Moomins, and the valley’s residents, but he knows there’s one person you can hide nothing from.

He’s sitting on the bank of the river a few hundred feet from his tent, a few days after the valley wakes up, just barely after sunrise. He doesn't even have his cloak on yet, he's just in pants and a white shirt, with his trusty hat fixed to his head.

His fishing pole is fixed in the ground with a few sticks and he is rubbing his brow bone, doing just what was described - removing anything _bad_.

He feels a weight thrown onto him and around his neck and Snufkin nearly falls into the river in front of him as he feels for what it is, grabbing a tall bun of hair.

He groans, prying the creature off of his neck. “Little My, I’ve told you that you can’t sneak up on me like that.” His breath is catching in his throat a bit as he takes deep breaths, giving Little My a look of annoyance.

“Geez. What’s your problem?” She clambers off of him, kicking him in the back as she does so. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his harmonica, just gripping the cold metal of it in his paw. Her look changes to one of understanding with, most surprisingly, a bit of regret tied in. “Oh. You’re right.”

“You know Mymble is the same way, as is our mother. Don’t know how on Earth she manages to… stay _sane_ with all those children, all the screaming and hair pulling and noise…” He shuts his eyes, pressing the metal of the harmonica to his forehead. He’s sat there in silence with the mini-mymble when he feels a poke on his eyebrow. He reflexively swats it away, but sees Little My has concern actually coming across her face, which then turns to annoyance.

“You’re doing _that_ again? Really? I thought you stopped last year, promised Moomin that you’d quit or some nonsense.” She pops down on the riverbank next to him, watching the bobber in the water.

Snufkin groans louder, tugging down his hat to hide his eyebrows. “Yes, I am. Why is it your business?” Little My lifts the hat off of his head, staring at the hair underneath. Snufkin pulls away from her, putting his hat back onto his head. “Hey, it’s all grown back, alright? _That_ was years ago.” He settles back onto the riverbank, much more wary of his hat. “Besides, why should I be holding up my promise if Moomin’s doing the exact same thing I am?”

“Dunno. You should probably ask him that yourself, don’t you think?” Little My has begun ripping grass from the dirt one blade at a time, very obviously bored. Snufkin notices, but is unable to keep his mind on that when his fishing rod gets tugged on. He grabs it and reels in a decently sized fish, placing it in a bucket nearby.

“Well, that’s lunch.” He takes his fishing pole in one paw and the bucket in the other. “I’m going to go find Moomin, see if he’d like to have a picnic.”

"You're always spending time with him nowadays. It's gross," Little My whines, then flops back in the grass, staring at the sky when Snufkin turns to walk away. He’s stopped after a couple steps by Little My yelling his name. He turns back.

“Yes?”

Little My gestures to her brow line. “You should talk to Too-Ticky or Moominmamma about that. Seriously.” She looks concerned, but there is some disgust dripped in there, because it’s Little My. Of course she’d find it a little gross.

Snufkin rolls his eyes, but does have a genuine look of appreciation on his face. “Fine. I will.” He tips his hat to her, then turns again and begins walking to Moominhouse.

About halfway up the path to get his friend, he has an epiphany.

You should surprise him.

Snufkin, you’re a genius.

He turns on his heel and runs to his campsite, setting up a stew with the fish he’d caught. His thoughts race by as he throws some scraps and leftovers into the pot and stirs it. You should get flowers.

He immediately follows this thought, leaving the stew to cook as he runs off into a field full of brightly colored flowers.

His friend is going to love this. 

His friend.

He gathers the flowers and brings them back to his campfire, and there he waits a few hours, letting the stew slowly cook as he tosses in sprigs of herbs he'd find on the trail.

When his stew finishes, it's about mid-day, and he still hasn't felt to throw on his cloak. He spreads out just a plain old blanket onto the grass and puts the bundle of flowers, which he has tied into place with a strand of braided blades of grass, on the center of the blanket with his hat. He weakens the fire, grabs a few bowls, and places them on the blanket.

"Perfect. He's going to love this." A small smile comes to his face as he begins the trek to Moominhouse.

When he reaches the tall blue house, he stops under the highest window. He puts his fingers to his mouth and whistles. After a moment, he sees the window open and Moomin leans out.

"Snufkin! What is it? Must be an emergency, you're hardly dressed!"

Snufkin feels his heart stutter at that phrase, but cups his paws around his mouth to yell up to him. "I have a surprise for you!"

And with that, he sees the rope ladder come down the window and Moomin makes his way down.

"What's the surprise?"

"Well, I couldn't tell you, could I? Then, it wouldn't be a surprise. Close your eyes." 

Moomin chuckles, then closes his eyes and covers them with his paws. When Snufkin takes one in his own, he keeps them shut and covers just one. Snufkin feels his paw, the burning and itching is gone. His soft, white fur is like a glove on Snufkin's paw.

He should really talk to Moominmamma about that. She probably has a tonic or salve or ointment from it from that big book of recipes.

For now, he leads Moomin down to his campsite. When they arrive, Snufkin takes both of Moomin's paws and pulls them off of his eyes. He opens his eyes and they widen as he gasps.

Snufkin walks over to the pot on the low fire. "It's a picnic!"

His gaze is away from Moomin for a minute as he pours out the stew into bowls, and he has this intense urge to move his eyes back to his friend. He doesn't know why. Regardless, his urge is satiated when he hears a sniffle from the blanket as he's pouring the second bowl. 

He looks over and sees Moomin sitting on the blanket, holding the flowers oh so delicately (has Snufkin ever been jealous of flowers?) with tears coming down from his eyes.

Snufkin drops the bowl and runs over, sliding down on his knees. He didn't care that it hurt. And it _hurt._ "Moomin, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry! I-I can pack this all up and bring you back to-"

"No."

Snufkin is surprised by the stern tone in Moomin's voice as the troll stares down at the flowers.

They sit in silence a minute, before Moomin takes in a shaky breath and breaks it. "You… you did all of this for _me_ , you even brought me _flowers_. I'm not sad. At all." A gentle laugh comes out of Moomin as he speaks and the very sound warms Snufkin.

"But, I… I made you cry, I'm so sorry, Moomin." Snufkin wipes away his tears and Moomin places a paw over his. His panic subsides.

"You don't need to be sorry. This is the happiest I've ever been." Moomin gives him a big smile, holding the flowers to his chest.

Why is Snufkin getting so warm, why are his paws tingling? Snap out of it, Snufkin. You can't be getting sick. He stands from his place on the blanket and returns to pouring another bowl of stew.

"Well I'm glad. That's why I did this, I knew you'd like it." He returns to Moomin with two bowls of stew. Moomin glances down at Snufkin's knees and nearly shrieks. "What?" 

Snufkin looks down and sees his knees are red through his pants with small holes scraped through, along with a large slice in his right pant leg. So that's why it hurt. "Hmm, must've cut myself on a rock or something sliding down, one second."

He hands Moomin his bowl of stew and places his own on the blanket a bit further away, sitting down and rolling up his pant leg.

There is a long cut down his leg and his knee is scraped to the moon and back. Moomin immediately puts his bowl down, running to his tent and reaching in, emerging with bandages.

"I'm fine. Really. Just needs to scab over is all, I'll be fine."

"You're hurt. You're _bleeding._ I'm not going to sit back and let you be hurt." Moomin pushes the pant leg further up and rolls up the other, Snufkin's face once again burning.

"Please, I- I don't need you to-" He winces and cuts himself off as Moomin begins wrapping his leg. "You really don't need to do this-"

"I want to, Snufkin. I want to make sure you're okay, and see to it that you're not hurt. Just this once, please."

Snufkin rolls his eyes but obliges, leaning back on his arms as the moomin leans over him, wrapping his wounds in the bandages, clean and bright against tanned and dirt stained skin. He hated being doted on like this, but… this felt alright. Friends take care of each other, right?

Friends.

When he's all patched up, they return to their picnic, enjoying the stew and each other. When they've finished, they lay back on the blanket, staring at the clouds. Their paws drift close and Moomin is the one to take Snufkin's in his own. 

The emptiness is gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> snufkin: im not gay lol
> 
> Also thank you all for 300+ hits you're so sweet!! I try to respond to every comment (pretty sure I've succeeded thus far) so thank you for all of those as well!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter!


	4. You Look Happy to Meet Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Hair pulling

The moment Moominmamma heard of his injury, she insisted on taking a look and making sure nothing got infected. He was sat up on the counter of the kitchen, his pant legs rolled up and his cloak pulled over his lap. Moominmamma unwrapped his bandages, getting a few winces out of him as she did so.

"Moominmamma, I really appreciate it, but you don't need to do this." He sighs once she removes the rest of the bandages, looking down at the scabbed wound and grimacing at the sight.

"Nonsense." She tosses the soiled bandages in the trash. "What kind of Moominmamma would I be if I didn't make sure you were alright?"

Snufkin chuckles, letting out a heavy sigh. "I suppose you're right." He watches as Moominmamma walks to a cabinet and retrieves multiple different bottles. Why didn't he hate this? Why didn't he despise being taken care of like this?

He's contemplating. For a while. Moominmamma finishes applying some sort of gel to his cuts and wraps him up with proper bandages. "All fixed." She moves to put the bottles away. "Is there anything else you need from me?"

Snufkin is silent for a beat, then speaks up. "Yes, actually." 

Moominmamma looks to him from the sink, washing her paws. "Well, I didn't actually expect you to say yes."

"Well, I, um…" He lifts his hat off of his head, feeling his eyebrows. "I've been pulling again." He feels his face warming in embarrassment. Oh, how he hated this. Being reliant on someone.

"Oh, dear. That's not good.” She dries her paws on a towel, putting away the clean dishes. “Do you have any idea why?"

"That's the issue, Moominmamma, I haven't the slightest clue. And- And I want to keep my promise to Moomin, I told him I'd stop, and I did, at least for a while. I didn’t pull all winter long." He puts his head in his paws. "Now that's all thrown in the trash." 

Moominmamma walks over, putting a paw on his shoulder. "First of all," she says, "it's not all thrown in the garbage. Recovering from these kinds of things is not a clear path. You did very well this winter, I can tell."

Snufkin's growing agitated, though clearly not at Moominmamma. "But then- what's the point if I'm just doing it all again?"

"The point," she continues, removing his hat from his head, "is that it isn't as bad as it was before. I remember you used to refuse to take that thing off because of it."

"Why am I still doing it though? It makes no sense, there's nothing that would have prompted it." Snufkin's deflated a bit, holding his hat in his paws.

"Well, has anything changed recently? Anything… new in your life?"

Snufkin’s lost in thought. He hasn’t had much of a change, the spring has really only begun. His mind drifts to Moomin. Nothing’s really changed with his friend, except-

Oh. _Oh._

"Well, um… M… Moomin and I…" He says, then mutters under his breath, not making eye contact. 

"What was that, dear?" Moominmamma cups his cheek with her paw.

"We've been holding hands," Snufkin blurts out. He buries his face in his hat, trying to stabilize his breath. "But all friends do that, right? That's just something friends do, like hugging or bringing each other flowers." He speaks through his hat very much like this is obvious.

"... So that's what this is about.” She pulls her paw away from him. “Come with me."

When Snufkin uncovers his face, he sees Moominmamma gesturing for him to follow her to the living room. He steps down and almost limps to the couch, trying not to irritate the fresh bandages. He takes a seat next to Moominmamma, and she's the one to continue the conversation.

"Snufkin…” She puts a paw on his leg. “You care very deeply for my son, yes?"

Snufkin nods, wringing his paws. "Yes, he's my best friend, has been for years."

Moominmamma nods sagely. "Are you… scared? Scared of… messing something up between you and him?"

Snufkin looks confused, wracking his brain for an explanation. "I'm- I'm not sure I understand."

"Well… take Pappa and I for example."

Snufkin immediately stumbles back a bit on the couch, surprised. "M-Mamma, that's not- I care about him, a lot, but I'm… I'm not…"

"In love?"

Snufkin nods rapidly. "Exactly! He's my friend, but he's… he's _just_ my friend. Nothing else." He leans back, arms crossed.

More nodding. “Yes. And you and him hold hands?”

“Yes." He once again speaks like this is obvious.

Moominmamma nods once again, then gives him a pat on the back. "I think… he might have something he wants to talk to you about."

"What do you mean? What's going on?" He almost yells, panic building up in his body. Was something wrong, did he do something wrong?

Moominmamma shrugs. "Not quite my place to say." She stands, dusting off her apron. 

Snufkin bites at the inside of his cheek before speaking out. "He's… he's pulling at his tail. You've noticed, haven't you?"

Moominmamma chuckles, then walks to the doorway to the kitchen. "Again, I think he has something to talk to you about."

The words dig at Snufkin's guts, twisting them up and making them into mush. He fixes his hat to his head. It's nothing to worry about.

He stands and walks to the kitchen doorway. "One last thing?"

Moominmamma nods to him. "Go ahead."

"Every time… every time after I hold his paw, it feels like mine is… burning, or itching." He presses his paw with his thumb.

Moominmamma heads to continue scrubbing the dishes she left behind. "Well, dear, maybe you're just allergic."

Snufkin laughs, staring at his paw. "Yeah… yeah, maybe. I'll see you, Moominmamma."

"See you around, dear."

He tips his hat to her, then turns and walks out of the house through the living room, starting towards his tent.

 

The entire day, his thoughts tear up his insides. He has something to talk about, he has something to talk about. What is it? Are they leaving the valley? They could never, this was their home. Is he going to ask to join him this winter again? He hated having that conversation with him, because as much as he wishes Moomin could come, Snufkin couldn't handle it. He needs to be unleashed, free to think his thoughts how he wants, when he wants.

He's sat in his tent, his knees to his chest, pulling from his eyebrows when he hears a voice from outside. It's Moomin.

"Snufkin? C… Can we talk?"

Snufkin nearly falls backwards. "Yeah! Yeah, just a minute," Snufkin sputters out, throwing on his cloak and hat. He unzips the tent and starts to step out, before Moomin stops him.

"Can we… talk in your tent?" The troll looks as though he’s about to be thrown off of a cliff.

Snufkin blinks in surprise before nodding. "Sure. Sure, come on in." He steps back into the tent and Moomin steps in, sitting down. He has tears in his eyes and is pulling at his tail. Snufkin puts a paw over Moomin’s. "What's wrong?"

"I…" He stutters, taking a deep breath and letting it out. "I have… something I need to tell you. Something I've needed to tell you for a long time, but haven't been able to."

Snufkin nods, putting a paw out for Moomin to take. He immediately does, squeezing harder than Snufkin could have ever imagined he could.

"I… when I tell you this, I need you to promise you won't laugh, or yell, or get mad at me. Okay?" His eyes are dripping tears that track their way down his fur. Snufkin wipes them away with his free paw. “And… And I need you to promise that this isn’t going to change anything between us.”

Snufkin’s heart immediately speeds up in fear, but he pushes it down. He needs to be here for Moomin right now. "I promise. Take all the time you need." 

And he does just that. They sit in silence for a few minutes, soaking up each other's existences. Moomin breaks the silence by taking in another deep breath and whispering.

"Snufkin?" Moomin grips his paw even tighter, seemingly trying to make sure his friend was still there.

"Yes?" Snufkin tries not to yell, trying to hide the anxiety in his voice.

" … I'm gay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may be a bit of a Bare Bones chapter but I feel satisfied with it, I hope you all do too!
> 
> Next chapter coming soon! :P


	5. Blossom of Snow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter may be mega out of character, but its my moomin fic and i get to choose that snufkin is dumb and head over heels in love
> 
> she's also very dialogue heavy so Please Forgive Me It's All I Know How To Do

Well, that wasn't at all what Snufkin expected.

He sits, silent, staring into nothingness. Though his eyes are not on them, he can tell that Moomin's eyes are full of fear and tears are running out of them. "S… Snufkin?” He mutters, and Snufkin looks him in the eyes. It’s even worse than he imagined. Snufkin wipes away his tears with his thumb and pulls him into a tight hug.

“Thank you,” he starts, “for telling me. It means a lot that you trust me with this.” He gives himself in, letting Moomin bury his face in his shoulder as he sobs. Snufkin gently rubs his back, a bit suffocated in all the contact, but if he’s honest, he doesn’t hate it.

Why doesn’t he hate it? 

Moomin hiccups, stuttering as he speaks. “I- I was- I was so scared, and- and I didn’t know h-how you’d react- I thought you might hate me.”

“Oh, I could never hate you, Moomin. Especially not for something like this.”

Moomin clings to Snufkin, nearly breaking him like a twig. He’s falling apart, to an extent that Snufkin hasn’t ever seen from him. When he’s relaxed, he pulls his face away from Snufkin’s shoulder and looks him in the eyes.

“You’re the only one who knows. I haven’t told my parents. I’m going to, but I haven’t yet. I… I wanted you to be the first to know.” Moomin’s face alights in pink.

Snufkin chuckles, cupping Moomin’s face in his paw. “I’m honored.” Moomin puts a paw over Snufkin’s resting on his cheek. They soak in the moment before Snufkin speaks up. “Do you have any plan on what to do about Snorkmaiden?”

Moomin shakes his head, taking a shuddering breath. “I think… it needs to happen soon.”

Snufkin nods, gently stroking his cheek with his thumb. He honestly isn’t sure what’s come over him. He almost wants to push Moomin away, run out of his tent, and cry to himself for a week in a secluded clearing. Almost.

“Well, you take it at your own pace. This information is yours to share, and I promise you,” he puts a finger to his lips, “I won’t tell a soul.”

“Thank you.” Moomin takes another deep breath before continuing. “I… I want you there when I tell my parents, if that’s okay. I think it’ll help.”

“Of course. If it’ll help you, I’ll be there the moment you call me.”

Moomin laughs, warming Snufkin from head to toe. The terror of the situation, of how close they are, all of this contact, hits him all at once, and his recent flush disappears. His face blanches and he breaks into a cold sweat.

“I think… I need to get some shut eye. I’ll see you in the morning, bright and early. Berry season starts tomorrow.”

Moomin nods and presses his snout to Snufkin’s forehead before leaving the tent, waving to the mumrik as he zips the entrance back up. Snufkin proceeds to curl up on the floor of his tent, gripping his harmonica and very desperately trying to keep from reaching to his brow.

They were so, so close, impossibly close. His thoughts begin to race with the memory and his paleness is once again replaced with pure redness. He pulls his hat down over his face and screams into it. A moomin kiss? Really? How oblivious could you be?

All the noises around him are amplified, he’s shaking, noticing any sound that comes his way. The birds, the wind, the door opening and closing up on the hill. He clenches his eyes shut against his hat, and it’s only then that he realizes there are tears. He’s an absolute idiot.

His state doesn’t change. He’s like this for hours, he doesn’t even know when he ends up falling asleep.

He does know that when he wakes the next morning, he doesn’t feel rested in any way. He’s more tired than he thinks he’s ever felt, but he pushes through it and sits up. He unzips his tent and steps out, seeing the sun come over the mountains. 

He looks to Moominhouse and sees Moomin racing out of the house with at least 4 baskets in his paws, a wide grin on his face. Snufkin smiles fondly, stepping onto the path and meeting the troll on the bridge. 

They spend the entire day picking strawberries, raspberries, blackberries, berries of any kind. The bushes are hidden in crags and nooks, being part of the reason it takes so long to fill their baskets.

When they’ve finished, Snufkin and Moomin are standing in a clearing, sunlight leaking through the canopy. Like the sunrise the first day of spring, Moomin’s pure white fur is glowing in the sunlight, like fresh snow, and Snufkin can’t take his eyes off of him. Look away. Just look away, it’s not that hard.

His face is burning. The sun could blink out at this very moment and he wouldn’t need it. Of course, he’d prefer it didn’t. Then he’d have no reason to keep staring. Moomin’s noticed and laughs, a bit of embarrassment and concern leaking their way into it. The laugh only serves to make Snufkin feel warmer and warmer. 

“Snuf, why are you staring at me like that?”

The nickname turns Snufkin’s head to mush and he chuckles, his eyes still on his _friend._ “You’re… glowing.”

Moomin laughs even harder, and this turns Snufkin’s entire being into sludge. He’s dizzy, and his legs are weak, and the ground isn’t supposed to be that close to your face, right?

He’s splayed out in the grass and he sees Moomin rush over, placing the baskets down next to Snufkin. “Are you alright? What happened?”

“Just a, um…” He stares up at the moomin above him and smiles drunkenly. He notices that concern is thrown over Moomin’s face like a shroud, then feels a furry paw on his forehead. He’s snapped out of it by the contact and he shakes his head, clearing his mind like an Etch-a-Sketch. He sits up straight and readjusts his hat, hiding in it. “Just a head rush. I’m fine.” He stands and his legs are weak, but they hold him up. Rather, they hold him up with the support of Moomin.

“You just collapsed out of nowhere and you’re burning up, you might have had a heat stroke-”

“Moomin, I’m fine. It’s nothing.” He looks down at the ground and sees the berries he’d collected scattered on the ground. He frowns and crouches down, picking them up and scooping them back into the basket. Immediately, his **_friend_** comes to his assistance, and they quickly put all of them back into the basket.

Snufkin carries one basket in each paw and starts back to Moominhouse. Moomin’s not-so-subtle attempts to hold his paw are rejected as Snufkin walks straight ahead, his paws occupied with the baskets.

The two arrive at Moominhouse just as the sun is dipping below the horizon and the moon makes her way into the sky. They drop the baskets off at the house and before Moomin can have the chance to say goodnight to Snufkin, he’s gone. 

The vagabond is sprinting to his tent, his chest tightening and his feet stumbling. It feels like a plant has its roots entangled in his ribcage. He almost slips on the bridge, but finds his footing and turns into his campsite. He fiddles with the zipper to the tent, it’s stuck. He gets it unzipped and rushes in, not caring to zip it behind himself as he searches desperately for his most prized possession. 

His harmonica is gone. It must have fallen back in the clearing. How could you be so _stupid?_

He scrambles out of the tent and sees Moomin running down the path to the bridge. He must have seen him running. Snufkin finds some unknown speed and dashes, his feet carrying him to the clearing on wings of fear and denial.

He runs into the clearing and sees, in the moonlight, the glint of metal in the grass. His worries are pushed back as he dives in to grab it. The metal hits his paw and he melts, curling up in the grass as he clutches it.

He barely notices when Moomin slides in next to him and props him up. What he _does_ notice is he’s sobbing. Hard. He’s never cried this hard in front of anyone, but something about Moomin holding him and whispering to him unravels him like an old rag. He presses his face into his friend’s shoulder, reliving the moment from the day prior from a different perspective.

He’s an absolute idiot. He shouldn’t have done this in the first place, shouldn’t have let this happen. He shouldn’t have gotten close, shouldn’t have let him hold his paw, shouldn’t have returned to the valley this year or ever. He’s falling in love.

And nothing terrifies him more.


	6. May You Bloom and Grow

Snufkin is leaned into Moomin like a child, completely helpless. He’s lost the energy to sob, but tears are still streaming down his cheeks. His words are trembling their way out, his lungs working overtime. “I’m so sorry you- you have to deal with this.”

Moomin shakes his head and recognizes that it’s his turn to wipe away his friend(?)’s tears. He wipes his thumb over Snufkin’s cheek to rid him of the teartracks. “You have nothing to be sorry about.”

“But I should be able to handle this. I should be able to handle my problems.” Snufkin presses the flesh of his paws into his eyes, grimacing as he tries to stop the tears. “I should be able to take care of myself.” He feels every nerve on his neck that his scarf touches and he tries to pull it off, fumbling with it a bit. His tail is swishing in his cloak, mad with static energy.

Moomin sees that Snufkin is struggling to remove his scarf and assists him, slowly pulling it off. “Doesn’t mean you have to do it all alone.” He takes Snufkin’s hat and puts it to the side in the grass. “We’re all here for you, you know that.” 

That sentence only serves to further Snufkin's descent into his friend's shoulder. "Oh, goodness, I- I didn't mean to…" He trails off and lets out a big sigh. "We're… here as much as you need us. We won't crowd you or overwhelm you if you don't want us to." 

Snufkin’s still a wreck. His breaths are shallow and he can’t seem to get it back. "Moomin, I'm so scared." Snufkin speaks through gritted teeth, his tears matting up Moomin's fur. 

Moomin strokes his head. "Of what?"

"Being reliant." He shudders as he breathes, hiccuping. "I- I can't become reliant on someone, on anyone, because then I get too close, and then…" He cuts himself off, burying himself further into the fluff, wishing he could disappear into it forever.

"Then what?"

"Then people get hurt.” He stops, then takes a deep breath and continues. “People get hurt because I leave. People get hurt because I don’t show up on time. I get hurt because I can’t bear it anymore to leave. I need to leave, every year, I know this. But it hurts, Moomin, it hurts so much.” He clings to the white fur, surely causing Moomin some pain by it, even if he isn’t showing it.

“Does it hurt because you’re leaving or… because you know you need to come back?”

Snufkin pauses, collecting his thoughts. “I…” He mumbles. Tell him. “I miss you when I leave. So bad. It didn’t hurt this much a couple years ago, it really didn’t but now- now it’s like I… I got shot in the chest, every step I take driving it in further and further until I can’t take it anymore.” He stops again to gather himself, then speaks up. “I think our conversation last night may have… brought it all back up.”

Snufkin feels Moomin pull the slightest bit away from him and his puffy red eyes look up. He sees… disappointment.

“So... this is because I’m…”

Snufkin immediately panics, shaking his head. “No no no! No, not at all, Moomin, I-”

Moomin moves Snufkin away from him and stands, dusting himself off. “I think it’s time I get home. It’s getting late, Mamma’s probably worried.” He turns to walk away and Snufkin, still on the ground, reaches for him. He doesn’t make it. 

“No, wait, wait let me explain-”

“Why?” Moomin whips around, his arms spread out in front of him in exasperation. “Snufkin, you said that it wouldn’t bring anything between us but clearly it has.”

Snufkin scrambles to his feet, stepping closer to Moomin. God, he just wants to hug him again. Just tell him.

“Moomin, please, it’s a misunderstanding, I misspoke-” Tell him.

 

“Then why are you freaking out like this, if it isn’t because I’m gay?” Moomin tries to keep from yelling as Snufkin stares at the ground. Tell him tell him tell him _tell him tell him tell him **tell him tell him tell him**_. “I know you can’t help it when this happens, Snufkin, I’ve known that for a long time.” 

_**TELLHIMTELLHIMTELLHIMTELLHIMTELLHIM.**_ Moomin chokes up as he speaks and Snufkin’s heart breaks. “I just- I just want to know _why-_ ” 

He tells. “Because I think _I’m_ gay, Moomin!” Snufkin doesn’t yell. He just sounds… desperate. His voice catches in his throat, causing his words to squeak a bit as they come out. He feels as though a weight has come off of his entire body, but it’s immediately replaced by the unending weight of guilt and fear of knowing he’d need to explain himself.

The night’s silence sits between them as they stare, the moonlight leaking into the canopy as their only witness. Snufkin is the first to speak up. “You… You telling me last night has just… thrust it out in the open. All of it. Picked the scab, I guess. It’s not your fault, and it’s not- it’s not because you’re gay.” Snufkin pinches the bridge of his nose. He hears footsteps in front of him and feels fluff around his paw as Moomin leads him to an old capsized log, sitting him down.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you, Snufkin.” Moomin takes a seat next to him on the log, still holding Snufkin’s paws. “I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.”

Snufkin shakes his head. “No, I’m the one who should be apologizing. I’m the one who yelled, freaked out, and made you feel it was your fault. It wasn’t fair to you. I’m sorry.”

They sit in silence for a few minutes before Moomin pats Snufkin’s paw. “I’m glad you told me. I’m also sorry you had to tell me like this.”

“It’s alright, it was… it was going to happen eventually.” Snufkin shrugs, but there’s obviously some regret in his tone.

“Doesn’t matter,” Moomin begins, “that’s your choice to make. It… excuse my choice of words, but came out, in a heated moment. You deserve to be able to tell people when you’re ready.” Moomin looks to Snufkin’s brow, then his appearance changes to one of concern. “Is this why you’ve been pulling again?”

Snufkin groans. “You’ve noticed.”

“Of course I noticed, I’m your best friend.”

“Didn’t notice I was gay,” Snufkin jokes, getting one of those oh so wonderful laughs out of Moomin that turn Snufkin into mush. Snufkin’s tail swishes rhythmically under his cloak.

“Well, being gay doesn’t give you no eyebrows, now does it?” Moomin gives Snufkin a gentle shove, not strong enough to actually move him. “Besides, I haven’t exactly, um… Been practicing what I preach.”

Snufkin sees Moomin holding his tail regretfully. It’s more sparse than before. “Yeah… Yeah, I saw.”

Moomin sighs, dropping his tail. “It’s really because of… how anxious I was about telling you. I’m not sure how long I’ve known to be honest, I know it’s been a long time. But the thought of… the thought of how you might react if I told you had me restless all winter.”

Snufkin frowns, putting a paw over one of Moomin’s. “If I’d known…” He can’t seem to find an end to his sentence, but he doesn’t quite need one. Moomin finishes for him.

“I just- I don’t want you to be disappointed in me for this, because I made you make an unfair promise before you left and then proceeded to be… a complete hypocrite.”

“Moomin.” Snufkin adjusts himself on the log to face the fluffball. “I could never be disappointed in you for this. I know I can’t always help it, and I won’t ever judge you for it. I’m sorry I had you up during the winter worrying.” Snufkin rubs Moomin’s paw with his thumb. “If you’d like… you’re welcome to hide away in my tent anytime you need a nap. To pay you back for the lost sleep.”

Moomin gives him a soft smile. “I think I’d like that.”

Snufkin nods to him, staring him in the eyes. Moomin gives his paws another pat. “Again I’m… sorry this had to be how you tell me. About the whole being gay thing and all.” He gives a quick laugh. “I promise it won’t change anything between us.”

Snufkin nods to him, very grateful. “Thank you.”

And there they sit. Alone in the moonlight for what feels like an eternity.

Moomin eventually stands, letting go of Snufkin’s paws but immediately after offering one to help him stand. “I think this time I actually should get going home.”

Snufkin takes his paw and stands. “I should… probably get some rest.” He checks himself for his harmonica and, when he knows he has it, begins walking back to the valley, paw in paw with Moomin.

Moomin accompanies him back to his tent, gently pressing his snout to Snufkin’s forehead, causing Snufkin to turn red as a poppy. He retreats into his tent, sitting there in complete shock.

After maybe an hour, Snufkin hears footsteps. He reaches for his lamp, ready to throw it if need be, but he hears a tiny voice outside.

"Snufkin?"

His ears almost start ringing as he races to unzip the tent. Moomin’s staring at him sheepishly, a pink flush showing under his white fur. “Do you… mind if I take you up on that previous offer?”

Snufkin nods rapidly, unzipping the tent all the way so his friend can crawl in. They're very squished together, giggling like little kids. They're practically drowning in each other, hardly able to breathe. Moomin's hearty laughter has Snufkin giddy again, his heart racing. They're so, so, so, so close, leaning against each other as Moomin falls asleep sitting up.

Somehow, Snufkin manages to remove his cloak to keep from boiling alive in all the heat, leaving him in the outfit he'd worn to the picnic, torn pants leg and all. He leans into Moomin's fluffy void, his tail free from its restraints. That was one thing he'd never dare to show his friend. But… this time wouldn't hurt, would it?

He curls up into his… Friend? And deep in his chest a noise erupts, the same place from where his grainy laughter comes from. His chest vibrates with the noise, one he hasn't made in a very, very long time. His tail wraps around them, almost intertwining with Moomin's. He's pressed against Moomin, purring into his fur.

And nothing makes him happier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [jeb bush voice] please kudos
> 
> I do hope you enjoyed this chapter, it was Hurty and a little all over the place tbh but it ends on a happy note and I felt happy with it!


	7. Bloom and Grow Forever

When Snufkin wakes, he’s buried in what feels like a cloud. His face is cushioned, his pillow soft and welcoming.

The pillow breathes.

Snufkin’s eyes snap open and white fluff pokes him in the eyes. He blinks out the water forming in his eyes from it and shoots straight up. He’s staring down at Moomin who is fast asleep. His look of fear melts away to one of fondness. 

He pulls himself away from Moomin, moving to unzip and leave his tent. He steps out into the early morning air, dew still covering the grass. He stretches, his tail straightening up and then relaxing as he does so, a shudder running up his spine.

He sets up his iron pot to prepare some stew from leftovers, gathering water from the river and letting it boil. He tosses in random leftovers that he thinks may work along with some herbs. He hears the tent unzip, accompanied by a loud yawn. His tail swishes behind him like a metronome.

“Morning, Moomin.” He stirs the pot with a stick, not looking over to the tent.

“Morning, Snufkin… What’s for br-” Moomin stops his slightly slurred words and Snufkin looks over at him. He’s staring at something. Snufkin follows his eyes and sees his tail swishing. It stops immediately. 

Snufkin looks back up to Moomin, forcing down a swallow as he breaks into a cold sweat. Not once in the many, many years of being friends had Snufkin let him see. He wasn’t ever supposed to see. 

“I-I…” He searches for words but can’t find any. He’s turning red with embarrassment. He sees Moomin doing the same, burning under his white fur. His eyes are massive, his pupils dilated almost to the point where the blue is completely gone.

Moomin slowly walks over, obviously trying to keep his eyes off of Snufkin’s tail. He fixes his eyes in the pot, refusing to move them. “What’s, um- what’re you… What’re you making?”

Snufkin somehow through the embarrassment manages to curl his tail around his leg. “Just some… Just some stew.” He continues stirring the stew with the stick, trying to will himself to cool down and reduce his redness. 

Moomin nods, speaking very softly. “I can… go get some bread and jam from the house. If you’d like. And I can get some berries.”

“Yes. That’d be nice.”

“Right. I’ll be back.” Moomin trudges off and, once he gets over the bridge, sprints off. At least, Snufkin’s pretty sure that’s what happens. He can’t seem to take his eyes off of this beautiful, wonderful stew. That’s why he’s staring. It’s the stew. He’s just staring at the stew because it looks nice. Not because he’s mortified that he let one of his biggest secrets slip. It’s just this amazing stew.

He’s just standing there, stirring, stirring, stirring. It keeps his paws occupied, regardless of the intense urge to just reach up, just for a moment. Nothing will happen, just put your paw up, reach up, make sure nothing’s wrong.

Before he even knows it, Moomin’s back with a basket of bread, a jar of jam, and some berries. “Got the… got everything. Got it.” He takes a seat on a nearby log, placing the things down on the ground in the basket.

Snufkin spoons the stew into two bowls when he believes it’s done and takes a seat next to Moomin on the log, his tail uncurling from his leg so he doesn’t crush it when he sits. Well, okay, next to Moomin is the wrong way to put it. He’s sitting on the very opposite end of the log, staring into his stew. Beautiful, gorgeous, soft, fluffy, white, warm stew. 

He feels Moomin scoot closer and closer over what feels like a century. Snufkin even begins to start moving closer as well. It seems he’s been fated to a life of blushing and acting an absolute fool. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Moomin slide his paw down to hold Snufkin’s, so Snufkin brings his paw down near where he believes Moomin’s is about to be.

He’s wrong. He’s so, so, so wrong.

He feels a paw against his lower back at the base of his tail and he shudders, a smile unconsciously coming over his face as he begins to purr. He almost feels drunk, animalistic instincts taking over in place of his common sense.

They lock eyes and Snufkin can feel his heart beating out of his chest. They begin unconsciously leaning into each other. Snufkin’s heart is practically beating out of his chest before he mutters, his face inches from Moomin’s. “I… Can I k…”

Moomin finishes his thought with a simple nod.

And with that, they close the distance. Snufkin shuts his eyes. This feels… not quite right. He feels fluff against his mouth.

Right. That’s not how Moomins do that. He cracks his eyes open and sputters, laughing as he leans back and tries to get the fur out of his mouth. Moomin whines, burying his face in his paws.

“Snufkin. Come on, stop it.”

Snufkin laughs, getting the last of the fur out of his mouth. “Not my fault you moomins kiss weird.”

“Well then…” Moomin smirks, walking his fingers up Snufkin’s chest. “Maybe let’s try your way.”

Snufkin lets out a single laugh of shock. “I think… I think I’d like that.”

Moomin lifts his snout and Snufkin almost immediately swoops in for the connection. It’s… soft. Soft and warm. Beautiful, gorgeous, soft, fluffy, white and warm. Reminds him of something. He’s not sure what.

And that is the way they stay, save for the tiny separations for breath as they try to make sure they don’t suffocate in each other. The sun breaks over the mountains, hitting them and warming them, though they knew they didn’t need it.

They stay together. It’s nice, it’s calm, it’s safe. When they finally break apart, they can’t help but smile. They smile for eons, just staring at each other. The stew gets cold.

“Your… your tail is cute.” Moomin pushes his flustered words out. It turns Snufkin into jelly as he leans in.

“Yeah?” He runs his fingers through the white fur on the back of Moomin’s neck. “So’s yours.”

And again they find their connection.

 

 

Snufkin packs up the next morning. He’s just going to explore, go off yonder for a few days. At least, that’s what he tells Moomin.

In reality, he’s off to visit a little cabin in the woods.

How does he know he’s going the right way? Why, he follows the violets of course.

The violets lead him to a clearing full of brightly colored flowers. They intermingle, telling stories to each other of travelers seen on paths nearby. He steps past the gossipping forget-me-nots and rhododendrons towards the overgrown door of the cabin, knocking thrice on it.

A tall mymble with sparkling blue eyes and red hair in a messy bun opens the door. She’s tired, having clearly recently woken, but she immediately gets a pep in her step when she sees the visitor.

“Snufkin, it’s so nice to see you!” She wraps him in a hug. She’s one of the few people he’ll allow to do this. She is his sister after all.

“Hello, Mymble. How are you two doing?” She lets him go and opens the door, inviting him inside. It’s a good thing he’d found a spring the previous night to wash off in, he couldn’t bring himself into this house a mess. The walls are neatly lined with pictures and paintings. He follows them to a small entryway, in which stands a woman with bright blonde hair and teal eyes against incredibly pale skin, so pale that you can almost see through her. “Oh, Too-ticky! It’s so nice to see you!” 

“‘Ello, Snufkin. How are ya? Need some’n to drink?” She leans on the wall, giving a likewise sleepy smile. They must’ve just woken.

“Some water would be lovely, thank you.” Snufkin smiles, feeling at home as Mymble leads him to the sofa to take a seat and Too-ticky heads into the kitchen. He puts his bag down and relaxes into the cushions, becoming one with the upholstery. “I’m sorry if I woke you two.”

Mymble laughs heartily, standing near the couch, waiting for Too-ticky to return. “Nonsense. It’s almost noon anyways.”

He sees Too-ticky return with a tray with some glasses of water and she hands one to the mumrik, putting the tray down on a table in front of the sofa. He has to force himself not to immediately chug it down. He has manners after all.

Mymble sits next to him, bouncing him a bit on the sofa as she does so. “Snufkin, you never come to visit, what’s the special occasion?” 

He chuckles, tugging his hat down on his head. “I, um… actually needed to talk to you two about something.”

Mymble giggles as Too-ticky takes a seat with her, taking her paw. “What’s going on, Snuf?”

Snufkin takes another sip of his water. “Well… It’s… It’s about Moomin.” He glances over and sees the two women leaning in, obviously quite intrigued about what he has to say. He clears his throat and breaks eye contact. “Well, we… You two know we’ve been best friends for years.”

 

“Almost a decade.” Too-ticky chimes in.

Snufkin chuckles, staring down at his glass. “Yeah… It really has been that long, hasn’t it?” He sits in silence, watching the water. Too-ticky moves closer on the couch and puts a paw on his shoulder.

“Ev’rythin’ alright?”

He nods, some tears building in his eyes. Why is he reacting like this?

“Yes. I’m fine. We, um…” He sniffles, wiping his eyes. “We kissed.” He hears a little gasp from the two of them. “And I don’t… I don’t know what to do.”

Mymble puts a paw to his cheek. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t…” He takes a deep breath, trying to keep the tears from coming down. One manages to spill out, tracking its way down his cheek. “I don’t want to… ruin what we have. I don’t want to hurt him when I leave for the winter, but I can’t… I can’t stay.” He pries his eyes from the cup, looking to his sister and her partner. “What do I do?”

Too-ticky smiles, putting a paw on Mymble’s shoulder. There’s a small glint of gold on her finger. “Well…” She leans in, whispering to him mischievously. “Did ya like it?”

Snufkin chuckles, nodding. He wasn’t exactly expecting that. “Yeah. Yeah, I did. I really did.”

“Then tell ‘im that.”

Snufkin thinks. He thinks for a while. It can’t be that simple, can it? He looks up to the two of them and they nod sagely.

“That’s… that’s it?” Snufkin returns to staring at his cup. “That’s… All I need to do?”

“Yup. Just… tell ‘im how ya feel.”

Snufkin feels his heart swell in his chest and a smile grow on his face. He finishes the water in the glass, placing it on the tray and looking back to the two of them with a renewed feeling of hope. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

Mymble reaches over and gives him a soft hug. “Of course.” When she lets go, Snufkin stands and grabs his bag. She stands to stop him. “Snufkin, it must’ve taken you days to get here. You can rest if you’d like.”

Snufkin shakes his head. “I know a shortcut. Besides, I’ve got someone to get back to.” He takes his sister’s paw and gently presses it to his lips. “Thank you again for your advice. You’re both far too kind to a creature like me.”

Mymble pulls his hat down over his face and Too-ticky speaks up. “Don’t be a stranger, alright?”

“Alright.” He walks to Too-ticky, giving her a gentle smile. “I’ll be back sometime over the summer if you’ll have me.”

“Of course.” Too-ticky gives him a pat on the back. 

Snufkin walks to the door, tipping his hat to them before walking outside. The roses and beggarticks speculate over the conversation that occurred in the cabin, tugging at him for answers. He ignores them, beginning his trek once again along the path of violets to the valley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for 1000 hits! You're all so kind to me and I love that you're having fun with this story.
> 
> I hope it's not too obvious this chapter was written by a tiny lesbian who's never had her first kiss ^^'


	8. Edelweiss, Edelweiss

Snufkin returns to the valley the next morning, having camped overnight on his path. He runs into the valley, stopping at the bridge. He shakes out his fears, feeling static energy that makes his tail swish like mad. It’s not restrained in his cloak. It isn’t as free as it would be if his cloak was off, but he no longer hides it up his back.

He plops himself down on the bridge, bringing out his fishing pole and casting his line. He kicks his legs over the edge, trying to calm the fire of anxiety burning within him. What if he says no? What if he gets angry? What if he hates him after this? He’d have to leave the valley forever, and that would hurt more than anything he could ever experience.

He misses when the bobber goes under and when he notices that it has, it’s too late. It got away. He mutters to himself, pulling in the line and putting new bait on it before casting again. He sits there alone as the sun rises. At least, he’s alone for a while. 

After the light of the sun has hit the entirety of the valley, he sees two fluffy white legs swing over the edge of the bridge. He looks over, but it isn’t who he expected.

It’s Snorkmaiden.

Her eyes are red and puffy. The fringe at the top of her head is tinted blue. She’s holding tiny stones in her paws. “Hello, Snufkin.”

He blinks in surprise, pulling in the line. “Hello, Snorkmaiden. How are you doing?”

“Oh, I think you’d know.” She bites back, not giving him eye contact. “He should have told you.”

He quirks the remnants of an eyebrow. “I’m… not sure what you mean?” He pulls his rod up onto the bridge, laying it down to free his paws.

She sniffles, her hair turning more and more blue. “... Moomin broke up with me.”

“Why’s that?”

 

She laughs at him. “You’d be the one to know. He told me everything.”

Snufkin turns bright red and tries to hide it by laying back on the bridge and putting his hat over his face. “What’s this ‘everything’ entail?”

“The whole… him being gay thing. Said he told you the other night.” She stands and tosses a few of the stones into the river, Snufkin can hear them skipping along the surface. “Said he’s known for… a while.”

“Hm.” Snufkin moves his hat a bit to glance at Snorkmaiden. “Anything else he tell you?”

“No.” She throws another stone.

Snufkin nods and puts the hat back down on his face. He hears the skipping stop, then Snorkmaiden takes in a breath.

“Why would there be more?”

Snufkin breaks into a sweat, his face warming under his hat. “No reason. Just curious.”

He hears footsteps coming towards his head and feels cool air against his face as Snorkmaiden moves his hat off of his face. “You’re red.”

“No,” he snatches the hat back, sitting up, “I’m not.” He puts the hat back on his head. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to set up my tent.” He grabs up the fishing pole and turns to head to his little clearing on the river when Snorkmaiden calls out to him.

“Snufkin, what’s wrong?”

He grits his teeth, not turning back. “Nothing. We’re just friends. Moomin and I are just friends.”

“I…" There’s silence, then she speaks up. "I didn’t say anything about Moomin that time."

Snufkin huffs in annoyance, throwing his things down. He’d blown his cover. “Alright. Fine. You want to know what happened between us?”

Snorkmaiden looks surprised. “I’m... alright, sure..?”

Snufkin puts his paws on his hips, then brings one up to pinch the bridge of his nose as he stares down at the ground. “We kissed.”

Snorkmaiden gasps. “What?!”

“We kissed.” He looks up at her, quite annoyed but also feeling guilt writhe in his stomach. “Is it really that big of a deal?”

“Yes, because up until last night he was my _boyfriend!_ ” She stomps over to him, pulling his hat down on his face.

“Wh- Snorkmaiden!” He readjusts his hat. “Listen. I’m sorry. I don’t… I wasn’t in my right mind.” He sits down on one of the logs and Snorkmaiden takes a seat next to him.

“Clearly. I've… had a suspicion for a while anyways."

Snufkin looks dumbfounded. "Really?"

"Yes. As wise as you may be, you can also be completely clueless. I've seen the way you stare at him, watching him like he's… the most beautiful thing on the planet. Everyone's seen it." Snufkin flushes red. That's what those stares were. All this time, _that's_ what those looks were.

She kicks at the grass. “Snufkin, if you’re… If you’re in love with him…” She looks to him, her blue hair turning slightly green at the roots as it begins to turn yellow. “I want you to be happy.”

Another flush comes across Snufkin’s cheeks. “I… Thank you, Snorkmaiden.” He looks to her, then to the porch of Moominhouse, on which the moomins and Little My are gathering for breakfast. He fixes his eyes on Moomin and he smiles, clutching the hem of his cloak. Snorkmaiden’s fingers snap in front of his eyes and he snaps back into reality.

“Hey, Romeo, wake up.”

Snufkin groans. “What?”

She stands, staring down at him. “If you’re going to tell him you can’t just stroll up there and say it. You’ve got to make it count. Bring him flowers or something. Chocolate covered strawberries. Make him feel special.”

Snufkin stares at her in awe. “You’re… a genius.” He stands, pacing back and forth.

“I know.” She walks to him and knocks his hat down again. “Go get ‘im, buddy. Make him happy.”

Snufkin nods. “I will. Promise.”

“Good.” She gets up in his face, anger burning in her eyes. “Because if you hurt him, I’ll kill you.” And with that, she’s gone, making her way back across the bridge. Snufkin’s heart swells in his chest as he sets up camp. 

What should he do for him? He didn’t have time to make him those strawberries, it had to happen _tonight._ He could find some nice flowers, maybe some daisies or roses or-

He’s staring out at the fields of flowers near Moominhouse when he spots a white patch. 

Edelweiss.

He runs over, gathering a few from the patch. He can’t take a ton from here, he knows this, so he runs off to the fields he and Moomin had picked flowers from before. He spends maybe an hour gathering edelweiss, bringing them back to his tent in a large bouquet. He spends the next few hours in his tent, secluded from the world, thinking of the words he will use and weaving the flowers into a crown. 

When he’s finished, he pokes his head out of the tent and sees it's barely past noon. He pouts, staring up at the sky. Not at all romantic enough. He’ll have to wait.

He makes his way to the flower fields, laying down and staring at the clouds. Moomin eventually joins him, laying down beside him without a word. They sit in silence, watching the clouds and birds go by. They don’t take each other’s paws, Snufkin refuses to be the first to do it. He can wait. Just a few more hours.

The sun is maybe an hour or two from setting when Moomin takes a breath and whispers. “Mamma’s invited you for dinner. We’re having spaghetti. You’re welcome to come if you’d like.”

Snufkin’s face turns to a soft smile. “I think I’ll take you up on that offer.”

And they continue to cloud gaze until there’s a small whistle from the house. They both sit up and look over, seeing Little My waving to them. They stand and stroll back, almost reaching for each other’s paws. Almost.

 

 

Moomin and Snufkin enjoy dinner together on the porch with the entire moomin family. Little My shoots him suspicious glances through the entire meal, but he ignores them. He has nothing to worry about tonight. His fears are completely gone. 

When they’ve finished, Snufkin excuses himself to wash off his plate. He’s pulled away by Moomin who grabs his paw and yanks him upstairs to his room. They climb up to their spot on the roof to watch the sunset.

They sit together watching the orange light creep out of the valley before Moomin pipes up. “I, um… Saw you talking to Snorkmaiden earlier.” He glances over to Snufkin. “Did she…”

“Yeah. Yeah, she told me.” Snufkin stares out at the sunset, not daring to look over. “I’m proud of you.”

Moomin sounds dejected. “I still need to tell my parents.” He feels the shingles of the roof and the warmth seeping off of them.

Snufkin gives in and turns his head. “I can still be proud of you for telling Snorkmaiden, can't I?"

“I guess you’re right. I’ll probably tell them tomorrow, if you’re still willing to be there when I tell them.”

“Of course I am.”

Moomin nods and they both fix their eyes back on the mountains.

After what feels like forever, but is probably just a minute or two, Snufkin puts his bag in front of himself, staring into it and looking at the flower crown he weaved. Now’s the time. Do it. “I, um… Actually have something to tell you myself.”

Moomin looks over, curious. “Well, you’ve already told me you’re gay so it can’t be that intense.” Moomin chuckles and, like always, Snufkin gets a big smile on his face.

“Uh… well, actually it… it kind of is.” Snufkin laughs, quite terrified. His heart is about to come out of his throat. Tears well up and he wipes them away. He pulls out the flower crown and holds it delicately in his paws. “I’ve… I’ve known you for almost a decade. We’ve been best friends the entire time.”

"Yes…" Concern begins to creep over Moomin’s face. “Is… is everything alright?”

Snufkin nods, sniffling. “Yes.” He takes a deep breath and continues, this time looking up. “I just… Moomin, I really don’t want to ruin what we have. It’s special, there’s- there’s never been anyone like us before. A Moomin and a… wayward little creature like me.”

Moomin chimes in. “Well, there was Pappa and Joxter. They used to be best friends too!”

Snufkin lets out a tiny laugh. “Yes, but that’s just the thing. I don’t know if… ‘best friends’ fits us. At least not anymore.”

“What… do you mean?” More concern. God, why don’t you just say it already? You’re making him scared.

“Well…” He points his head back down to the flower crown. “I don’t think best friends really do what… we do.” He moves his eyes up to look at Moomin.

“I still… I still don’t understand.”

Some kind of force takes Snufkin over and he moves closer to Moomin on the roof. “Best friends don’t really…” He takes Moomin’s paw in his own, running his thumb back and forth over it. “Do this, do they?”

Moomin’s face lights up in red as he lets out a tiny laugh of denial. “I-I mean-”

“And they don’t collapse when they hear their friend laugh…” He leans into the soft white fluff, enjoying every bit of all of this.

“That’s- that’s what that was?”

Snufkin nods. "Yes. It just… your laugh just _does something_ to me." His last words are soaked in awe. He nestles into the fluff, purring just the slightest bit as he can feel Moomin's heart beating out of his chest. As confused as Moomin looks… he doesn't resist. Not in the slightest.

"Snufkin, are you- are you alright?" 

"I'm perfectly fine. Just… thought it'd be valuable to examine our relationship. Or what exactly 'best friends' do." He then brings his face near Moomin’s. "And speaking of what they do or don't do, I don’t think they do…" He places the crown on Moomin's head before continuing. "...this.” He presses his nose to Moomin’s snout. He can feel Moomin’s face heat up rapidly.

“Snuf, wh…" The moomin is clearly out of breath. "What are you saying?”

Snufkin smirks, gently nuzzling into Moomin’s fur. He liked this kind of kiss. He could still talk, and he could truly experience just how much it unraveled the troll. “I love you, Moomin.”

Moomin has a stunned look on his face for a while. Oh god, he's made a mistake. At least, that's what he thinks before the moomin gives him a tiny smile and whispers.

"I love you, too."

A big, dumb smile comes across both of their faces as Moomin leans into the little nuzzles and they, once again, find their connection.

And that's how they stay. They stay until the sun sets and well past that. It ends when Moomin hears a call from inside.

"Oh, I should… get going."

Snufkin leans back, cupping the side of Moomin's face with his paw. "Of course."

They maneuver their way into the bedroom and Snufkin affixes his hat to his head. He did it. He did it, he did it, he did it. "I should be heading out. Goodnight, Moomin." He turns to leave but is stopped by two paws wrapped around his own.

He looks back and Moomin looks at him with pleading eyes. "Stay."

Snufkin ponders a moment, already knowing his answer before nodding in a way to convey that very concept. He laughs as Moomin pulls him to the bed and they sit, enjoying each other's company through the night.

Snufkin eventually finds himself laid out on the bed, his head in Moomin's lap. Moomin plays with his hair as Snufkin hums out this year's spring tune.

It begins with joy, some fear and sadness peppered in the middle, before it ultimately comes to a blissful and merry end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We officially have 2 more chapters to go after this gang, one of them being an epilogue! I've had so much fun writing this for you all, so I hope I can make these last few chapters really good!


	9. Bless My Homeland

Snufkin awakes to the same cloud of a pillow. This time, he's expecting it. This time he welcomes it. He snuggles further into it, enjoying the lonely hours of the morning with Moomin. They stay this way for hours, even when Snufkin knows that Moomin has woken up. They bask in their collective warmth until Moomin eventually forces himself to properly wake up with a few words.

“I’m telling them today.”

Snufkin nods, burying his face in the white fur. “Now?”

“Of course not, you’d rip my fur out before I got my feet off the bed.” He chuckles, playing with Snufkin’s hair once again as the mumrik purrs. They relax together for another hour before Snufkin sits up, stretching and letting out a big cat-like yawn and speaking through it.

“Now..?”

Moomin nods and they stand, walking downstairs to the living room. Their pancakes were cold, but they didn’t care. They ate rapidly before taking a seat in the living room with Moominmamma and Moominpappa. They’re having a regularly normal conversation, talking about the flowers blooming and the edelweiss patches.

There’s a break in the conversation, and Moomin takes full advantage of it. “Mamma, Pappa, I need… I need to talk to you about something.”

They both look to him and Snufkin sees him pulling at his tail. He puts a paw over Moomin’s and whispers to him. “It’s okay. They love you.”

Moomin nods then turns back to his parents and takes in a deep breath, letting it out with his words.

“I’m gay.”

Moominpappa leans back the slightest bit in surprise, but Snufkin sees a look on Moominmamma’s face that seems… knowing. She’s the first to speak up. 

“Thank you for telling us, dear. It means the world to me that you’ve decided you trust us enough to tell us.” She stands from her comfy chair and moves to sit next to Moomin on the couch, wrapping him in a hug. Pappa moves his chair closer, sitting in front of Moomin. Snufkin pulls the slightest bit away but Pappa spots him and shakes his head, placing Snufkin’s paw back over Moomin’s. They share a look and Pappa nods, his eyes watering.

Pappa allows Mamma and Moomin their moment before chiming in. “You know, Moomin, I’m very glad you told us.” He leans in and whispers something in Moomin’s ear, causing him to lean back and cough in surprise, the coughs evolving into his wonderful, wonderful laughter.

“ _What?!_ No way.”

“Is it really that unbelievable, Moomin?” Pappa ruffles the top of Moomin’s head. Snufkin looks between the two of them, quite confused. All three of them are laughing and he frowns. Pappa sees this and stops his laughter, leaning in with a mischievous smile on his face. “I’m bi, Snufkin.”

…

Huh. Okay.

Snufkin’s brain has to reboot a moment before he starts giggling like a little kid. They all enjoy their laughing fit before the room relaxes.

They return to normalcy, which it really all was. Their son was just gay now, no big deal.

 

Moomin and Snufkin are walking along the river, discussing the results of the conversation. Moomin laughs in shock. "My dad's bi. Wow."

"Doesn't surprise me." Snufkin taps Moomin's paw with his finger and Moomin wraps his paw around Snufkin's. They walk paw in paw, occasionally very exaggeratedly swinging their arms back and forth, laughing as they do so.

They continue their stroll, eventually turning around to make their way back to Moominhouse. Moomin's grip slowly tightens on Snufkin's paw until it eventually starts to hurt.

"... Moomin, are you okay?"

"Yeah. What do you mean?"

"You're breaking my fingers." Snufkin holds up their paws to show the circulation to his paw being cut off.

Moomin lets go, shaking out his paw a bit. "Sorry."

Snufkin frowns when he feels the empty burning accompanying the returning of circulation to his paw and he sighs, stopping on their path. "Moomin. What's wrong?"

Moomin is silent, not turning around. He takes a deep breath, letting out three confused words. “Are we boyfriends?"

Snufkin mulls over those words for… a good minute before he steps up, planting a kiss on Moomin's cheek. "If you'd like to be. If not we can just be… very good friends who hold paws… And kiss sometimes."

Moomin's stressed look that Snufkin got a glimpse of as he approached morphs into a squinty smile as Moomin laughs.

"As funny as that would be, I think I prefer the first option." He takes Snufkin’s paw in his own once again and they continue their walk back to the house. 

Through the spring, Snufkin notices small things about the valley that he’d never truly seen before. He knew they were there, sure, but now he noticed. He notices how all the flowers grow and when they bloom, how the river hits against the rocks just so, how the clouds never block too much of the sun. It’s as though the valley was made for him. He has a home. It’s terrifying if he’s honest, but it’s also nice to know you have somewhere you can return to whenever you feel like it. 

Summer comes and goes as autumn takes its place. Everyone in the valley knows now, and Snufkin feels as though he’s never been happier. Every day is filled with more and more joy because he gets to be with Moomin. They get to be close and he gets to live as though they are still a secret, which they are most definitely not anymore. He’s happy as can be every single day that comes.

Except for the last day.

The last day of the fall has come. It always does, Snufkin knows this, but he can’t bear the thought of leaving now. But he knows he must.

Moomin and Snufkin stand on the bridge at the entrance of the valley, Snufkin’s campsite all packed into his bag. Neither of them say a word for hours. The sun is setting on them, the last of its warmth given to them before that warmth disappears for the coming season. When the last of the sunlight slinks down under the mountains and leaves the sky a fiery orange, Moomin takes in a shaky breath.

“I know you have to leave, and I’m… I’m not going to ask you to stay. That’s your choice.” He holds Snufkin’s paws very tightly. “I just… is there anything you could leave over the winter? Just in case I wake up suddenly, so I know you’ll be coming back?”

Snufkin gives him a small smile, placing a kiss on his forehead. “I already have. The reason I come back every year, the entire reason I stay for so long is right here.” He ponders a moment before continuing. “But, if it will make you feel better, of course, I will.” He removes his scarf, placing it around Moomin’s neck. “In case you wake up, you’ll have this. I’ll be with you.”

“Snufkin, you’ll freeze out there.” Moomin shakes his head, making an attempt to remove it before Snufkin stops his paws. 

“I will be fine. Always have been.” 

Moomin pouts dramatically, pretty obviously joking. At least it was obvious to Snufkin. 

The mumrik taps Moomin’s snout and he lifts it on cue. They don’t do this often, it’s a bit awkward for them to figure out, but it’s nice. Snufkin gives Moomin a soft kiss goodbye. “I love you.”

Moomin sniffles, wiping his eyes. “I love you, too.”

Snufkin wipes the rest of Moomin’s tears away before doing probably the most difficult thing he’s ever done in his life.

He leaves. He leaves this time, and like all the more recent times, it hurts. It hurts more than anything in the world, but he leaves and he stays gone until the first day of spring when he returns to the valley with a bouquet of their small white flowers. That is how it always is, and that is how it will always be.

 

 

 

 

 

Until it isn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next one's gonna be fun :3


	10. Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for this opportunity.
> 
> Some music for you to enjoy through this chapter. 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=81Vzxng5iNA
> 
> Sorry for scaring you with that last author's note ^^'

**10 years.**

Moomin and Snufkin have been together for 10 years, adding another decade onto their time together. They’re now both officially grown up, but it’s all still the same. Snufkin comes, he stays, he leaves, and he returns. Moomin is always there waiting for him and Snufkin always brings the little bouquet of edelweiss for _his_ edelweiss. That seemed to be Moomin’s favorite nickname.

Snufkin’s scruffy now, fur growing on his lower face in place of a beard. Moomin insists he likes it, though he worries that it’s too itchy. His boyfriend’s occasional little scratches on it, though, are more than enough to convince him not to shave it all off.

He hates to admit that he looks more and more like his father every single day. Although, he doesn’t ever have to admit it. Moominpappa always tells him anyway.

Moomin’s built an itty bitty cabin in a clearing just outside of the valley on Snufkin’s path, just big enough for two people. Outside of this cabin is where Snufkin places his camp every spring, though he sleeps inside with Moomin more often than he’d like to admit. But it’s nice, it’s safe, and it’s always there when he needs it. Often times, Moomin will be the one to join him in his tent, curling up and keeping him warm. That tiny cabin is a sanctuary, a place Snufkin can go any time he needs it. It’s where he always returns every spring, the first place he goes.

Until it isn’t.

At this very moment, the cabin is the last thing Snufkin needs.

It’s the first day of spring again, the dawn of the mumrik and moomin being together for a decade. Snufkin knows Moomin will be waiting for him at the cabin. He needs to avoid him _at all costs._

He sneaks past the cabin no matter how much his heart aches at the sight of Moomin’s silhouette in the window and runs into the valley towards Moominhouse. Smoke billows out of the chimney. Mamma and Pappa are awake. 

This winter he’s had so much time to think, to the point where he may currently be getting way too in over his head. But he doesn’t care. His uncontained thoughts have brought him to a decision he knows he’s wanted to make for a very, very long time, but hasn’t had the nerve to do so. Now his feet are carrying him to exactly what he needs before he can make that final decision.

When he reaches the house he doesn’t bother with knocking, he throws the door open and runs to the kitchen, his paws on the doorframe, where he sees Moominmamma and Moominpappa having their coffee, quite surprised by the sudden intrusion immediately after having woken from their hibernation. They don’t even get the chance to get a word in before Snufkin catches his breath and speaks with a giant smile spreading across his scruffy face.

“I want to marry Moomin.”

There’s shocked silence before Moominmamma barely avoids actually exploding with pure joy, rushing into the living room and upstairs with energy the mumrik hadn’t ever seen from her before. Moominpappa is more contained about it, though he’s clearly overjoyed. He brings Snufkin to the living room to sit down as Mamma returns with a scrapbook, photos spilling out the sides of the pages.

Pappa sits next to Mamma on the couch and Snufkin sits in a chair in front of them. Pappa speaks up, his voice is more gravelly than it used to be. “My boy, have you gone to see him yet? He’s waiting for you, I’m sure of it.”

Snufkin shakes his head, removing his hat. “No, I came straight here. I…” A giddy smile grows on his face. “I wanted to surprise him.” He wrings the hat in his paws. “That is… if you’ll allow it.”

Pappa laughs, and every time Snufkin hears him laugh it makes him smile wide. He knows where Moomin gets it. “Of course we’ll allow it, you’ve given our son more love than he knows what to do with!”

Mamma leans forward, holding the scrapbook and gesturing for him to join her on the couch. He immediately obliges, sitting next to her as she opens the scrapbook.

There are photos of Mamma and Pappa from both before and after they were married. They look so young that it’s almost eerie, but they’re so clearly and deeply in love in all of the photos. There’s a photo on one page that has Mamma caught in the middle of laughing and Snufkin swears it looks just like Moomin. Mamma looks to Snufkin, taking one of his paws. “If you truly believe this is what you want for the two of you, you have our blessing.”

Snufkin is beaming, tears begging to spill out of his eyes. “Thank you. Thank you so much, thank you.” He gives Moominmamma a tight hug that she returns before he stands, pacing the room as he gets lost in his thoughts. “I don’t… I don’t have anything to give him, I don’t even have a ri-” 

He’s cut off by Moominmamma’s closed paw in front of his chest. It opens and in it sits a decently sized silver ring with small gemstones.

“This is the ring Pappa gave me. It’s time for it to find a new home.” Snufkin shakes his head but Mamma doesn’t let up. “I insist. He’ll love it.”

Snufkin takes the ring, holding it as delicately as one may hold a newly hatched baby bird. “Thank you, Mamma. Thank you both so much.” He sniffles and Moominpappa wipes his tears away.

Moominpappa is silent for a beat before speaking under his breath. “Goodness, you _really_ look like your father.” Mamma gives him a little swat on the shoulder and he scoffs. “What? He does.”

Snufkin laughs through the shaking breath he’s having. “I… I hope I can make him happy.”

Mamma leans in, straightening his hat out. “You already have, Snufkin.”

Snufkin leaves Moominhouse soon after with their blessing and the ring in his paw. He walks down the path towards the bridge, trying to sort out his thoughts and bring them all in a line. When he crosses the bridge, his feet feel lifted by the wind and he begins running down the path to the cabin with the same energy he’d feel all those years ago. He sticks the ring in his cloak pocket and stops at the entrance of the clearing, seeing the cabin. 

Before he can realize he doesn’t have any flowers, Moomin has thrown the door open and is running to him. Snufkin does the same and they collide in a hug, tumbling to the ground. Snufkin peppers little kisses on Moomin’s face, causing the troll to giggle and make Snufkin absolutely melt. 

Snufkin pulls himself up and stands, holding out a paw for Moomin to stand. Moomin accepts and comes to his feet, looking at Snufkin’s paw and pouting the slightest bit as he gives Snufkin their first words of the season.

“No flowers?”

Snufkin chuckles, cupping Moomin’s snout with his paw. “Not this year, I’m sorry.” He takes a very heavy breath. “Now, I- I do have something else.”

Moomin tilts his head in curiosity and Snufkin is silent, once again gathering his thoughts, before he takes both of Moomin’s paws in his own and begins.

“Moomin, you’ve completely changed my life. You’ve made me happier than I could ever ask for and given me more love than I could have ever thought I’d deserve.” His breath shudders and he reaches into his pocket, grabbing the ring but not taking it out. “And I so desperately wish I was better at things like this. You deserve something big, you deserve to feel like a prince. But this is all I can offer.” Moomin is staring at him, his eyes sparkling with wonder. Snufkin beams at the sight. “So, I’m going to ask you, Moomin, my darling edelweiss.” He keeps a paw on one of Moomin’s, the other clenched around the ring. He takes one final deep breath and gets down on one knee. Moomin gasps, his free paw going over his mouth in shock. Snufkin opens his paw and holds up the engagement ring. “Will you marry me?”

Moomin is sobbing, but this doesn’t concern Snufkin one bit, because he sees that the troll above him has a smile on his face bigger than he’s ever seen. “Yes.”

Snufkin slides the ring over Moomin’s finger and stands, immediately being pulled into an embrace with their faces smushed together. Snufkin nuzzles deeper into Moomin’s snout, wiping away his tears. There are no more words, not for a long, long time. Not until Moomin begins staring at the ring and gets a very amused look on his face.

“Was this my mother’s ring?”

Snufkin is caught completely off guard and begins laughing, descending into what was practically cackling with little snorts leaking their way in. He doesn’t freak out about those anymore. Moomin thought they were cute.

 

They’ll be married in a week. That’s what they decided that afternoon after sitting down in the cabin for coffee and little smooches.

“Where would we have it, though? Oh, there are so many wonderful places in the valley, like the flower fields or the beach…” Moomin drifts off in thought, daydreaming of all the lovely places in the valley before Snufkin tosses out an idea.

“What about the bridge?”

Moomin blinks in surprise, staring at Snufkin in amused awe. Snufkin loved that look. “You’re a genius.”

“I know.” Snufkin’s eyes crinkle a bit at the edges as he smiles. “We should let your parents know when we have it planned. We need to start making preparations.” Snufkin goes to stand and Moomin follows him.

“What about your parents?”

Snufkin starts walking to the door. “Mom wouldn’t show. She’s too busy with those kids to come anyway.”

“What about Joxter?”

Snufkin stops in his tracks, not looking back. He takes a deep breath, letting it shake its way out. “I…”

Moomin steps up to Snufkin, taking his paw. “I’m sorry. We don’t need to-”

“No, no, it’s fine. I’ll…” He gives Moomin’s paw a little pat. “I’ll write to him.”

Moomin smiles, bouncing on his feet. “Alright. Whatever you want, it’s your choice.”

Snufkin nods and they walk out of the cabin, paw in paw, heading towards Moominhouse.

 

A few days pass and Snufkin and Moomin, along with his parents, immediately start preparations. Snufkin borrows some stationery from Moominpappa along with those fancy wax stamps that he’d seen in his desk before. He’s writing out the invitations in Pappa’s office while Moomin is out helping Mamma sort out the ceremony seating. He’s isolated in the silent room, writing the same words over and over. It’s getting tiring.

When he’s finished, he places them all in their own envelopes and seals them with the wax, a design of a rose on the stamp. He labels each one with the names of those they wished to invite, which meant literally everyone in the valley, including writing one to Snufkin’s mother. He’s crossed off all the names on the list. All of them. Yup, every one of them.

Except for Joxter.

He’s sat at the desk, the silence of the room practically choking him. He very messily scribbles out the name on the letter, tossing it in a basket to the side with the rests of the letters. A knock comes from the door and he sees Moomin enter.

“Hey, bee.” He relaxes at the nickname. Moomin insisted on it, saying his mind was always ‘buzzing around like a bee.’ He obliged. “How’s it going up here?”

“Just finished.” Snufkin slumps down in the chair and Moomin walks over, giving him little scratches on the scruff of his face. He leans in, purring as his tail swishes rapidly. His head follows Moomin’s paw for a split second when he pulls away. He pouts, crossing his arms and mimicking a petulant child. He sees Moomin pick up the most recent letter, then place it back in the basket and put the basket on his arm.

“The postman should be here soon. Hope he’s not too mad at us for all of these letters.”

"If he is, tell him he's invited too." Snufkin sort of sticks his jaw out and Moomin jokingly rolls his eyes, scratching the scruff again as Snufkin leans into his paw and almost falls out of the chair because of it. This gives them both a case of the giggles as Snufkin sits up and leaves a tiny kiss on Moomin's paw. "I'll meet you downstairs in a bit."

Moomin nods and heads downstairs. Snufkin sighs and looks around the study, his eyes scanning for…

A glint of metal on wood. He stands and walks to a dusty corner, retrieving an acoustic guitar that obviously hasn't been shown the most love recently. He retrieves his harmonica from his pocket and uses it to assist in tuning the guitar, at least as well as one can when… tuning a guitar with a harmonica. 

He strums out tiny melodies. He still remembered how to play, but it had been a while, especially since he'd made his swap to the harmonica, a much more portable instrument. He doesn’t play long, just a few little tunes before he returns the guitar to its previous resting place and steps out of the study, joining Moomin downstairs in the living room. 

The letters go out. Each one is delivered to the person it’s addressed to.

 

Snufkin will be the one to walk down the aisle. Moomin realized that he could walk down the path into the valley and up to the bridge, just like they do every spring. Snufkin immediately agreed. 

His mother wrote saying she would not be able to make it. It’s not that big of a disappointment, Snufkin knew that she’d be too busy to show. Moominpappa offered to walk with him and Snufkin accepted, though a bit reluctantly. It wouldn’t quite be the same.

It’s the night before the ceremony. Snufkin is alone in their cabin and Moomin is staying with his parents for the night. Snufkin taps his paws on any surface he can find, pacing back and forth. His nerves are at an all-time high and he’s unable to keep still. What if something goes wrong, what if he regrets this, what if Moomin-

His thoughts are stopped by three knocks at the door. Moomin must’ve gotten lonely. He chuckles, shaking his head before he walks to the door.

“Moomin, you’re not supposed to be-” His words clog his throat at the sight of the creature in front of him. It’s like Snufkin’s looking in a mirror. He doesn’t give any more words, he just slams the door and returns to the sofa. There’s more knocking. Then more. And more. Snufkin can’t take it anymore and he storms to the door, throwing it open. “Get out of my sight.”

The figure in front of him laughs, the moonlight accenting the bright red hat on his head and the piercing blue eyes. “You’re the one who invited me.”

“Did I? Must’ve been a mistake.” Snufkin growls. The person slips his way in when Snufkin lets his guard down, serving to only further Snufkin’s annoyance. “Get out of my house, Joxter.”

“‘Joxter,’ goodness that sounds so formal.” He plops down on the couch. “You could call me ‘dad’ or something, y'know.” Snufkin groans and gives up, sitting on the couch as well.

“Why are you here?”

“Because my son’s getting married.”

“And you care because..?”

“Because you’re my son, and _he’s_ the son of my best friend.” Joxter sits up, putting his hat on the table. “I do care about you, you know.”

Snufkin rubs his temples. “Then why haven’t I seen you in… At least a decade? Did you even know Moomin and I were together?” Joxter doesn’t answer and they sit in silence. Joxter speaks up.

“Can I give you away?” Snufkin’s taken aback and Joxter puts a finger to his own lips, gesturing for Snufkin to wait before he continues. “I know I’m not… here. Ever. I’m sorry. I just wanted to know if you’d… let me be here for _this_. I'll understand if you say no.” He looks in Snufkin’s eyes and the young man can see that his father is really and truly speaking with the utmost sincerity. 

He’s thinking for… a while. Why would he say yes? Joxter hasn’t even seen him for over a decade and the first time he does, he barges into his house uninvited. He has absolutely no reason to say yes.

So… why does he?

 

It’s the morning of the wedding. Snufkin wakes up to see Joxter in…

“What the hell are you wearing?” He rubs the sleep out of his eyes and his vision focuses.

“A straightjacket.” He stretches his arms out in a clean grey suit, obviously uncomfortable out of his mind. “Went and raided Moominpappa’s closet last night, that man’s always been a heavy sleeper.”

Snufkin lets out an exasperated but amused laugh and walks over to him, adjusting the collar a bit. “You look like you’re being tortured. You don’t have to wear this.”

“No, I’ll be fine. Just one day, that’s all.” He’s lost, staring off into nowhere, before he looks to Snufkin with pleading eyes. He knows exactly what his father is going to ask, so he scoops the red hat off of the table and puts it on his head.

“Yes, you can wear this.”

Joxter lets out a heavy breath, adjusting it on his head. “Thank goodness.”

Snufkin moves to the small closet near the bedroom and opens the door, retrieving a mint green suit and deep green bowtie. “It’s incredible how quickly Moominmamma was able to make this.” 

When he’s changed, Joxter comes over and ties his tie for him. He gives a warm smile, placing his son’s green hat on his head. “Can’t forget this.”

Snufkin adjusts it, giving his father a smile. “Thank you. Moominpappa should be stopping by soon, I don’t think he knows you’re here.”

“Well, he’s in for a fun surprise, then.” Joxter gives a mischievous smile, one that Snufkin knows he’s inherited and takes a seat on the sofa. Snufkin joins him. They sit there and chat, catching up about things. Snufkin has no idea why Joxter is doing this, but he can feel this… warmth coming from his father. Occasionally when he glances up, he sees him wiping his eyes, but he always stops right after Snufkin sees.

There’s a hefty knock at the door. Snufkin goes to stand and open the door but Joxter stops him. They share a look and Snufkin has to suppress laughter as Joxter removes his own hat and replaces it with Snufkin’s before heading to the door and opening it.

Moominpappa is on the other side. “Ah, Snufkin! We haven’t much time, may I come in?”

Joxter nods and opens the door to allow Pappa in. He walks in and, when he sees the second mumrik on the couch, he rapidly looks between them, squinting. His eyes eventually fall onto Joxter’s and he takes a step back.

“Joxter?!” He laughs, removing Snufkin’s hat from his head. The two of them share some hearty laughter. “You’re… old!”

Joxter gasps dramatically, giving him a little swat on his top hat, knocking it out of place. “I could say the same about you.”

 

They all sit together for a while, talking about the old days until there’s a single knock at the door. Pappa takes it and Snufkin hears Moominmamma on the other end. 

“Everything’s ready. We’re ready when you are.”

Snufkin nods, looking to Joxter, who stands and holds out a paw to help him to his feet. He accepts, standing next to his father. He feels his pockets, almost panicking when he realizes they’re empty before he sees Joxter holding out his harmonica. He sighs, taking it and holding it in his paws.

“It’s just got to be authentic, huh?”

“Yes.” Snufkin turns the harmonica in his paws, feeling the cold metal. He looks to the door and sees that Mamma and Pappa are gone. He takes this as a sign that it’s time. It’s actually time.

 

Snufkin stands far back on the trail holding his harmonica in both paws. Something almost makes him turn around and start running, never looking back.

Almost.

He puts the harmonica to his lips and plays out a small melody, one from a long, long time ago. It’s a young spring tune, the one he’d played for Moomin the night they’d found their love. The birds among them repeat the tune, carrying it through the entire valley.

He begins walking, seeing the flowers along the edge of the trail, the same ones that would long ago pull at him for answers and nag him into coming to terms with his emotions. Now, they guide him into the valley to the little wooden bridge. The same bridge where Moomin would wait every year and the same one where he’s waiting now. 

He has to use all of his willpower not to start sprinting to meet Moomin and tackle him to the ground. He calmly carries himself down the trail, stopping at the edge of the forest. He looks up the path and sees Moomin in a fancy baby blue suit standing with Too-ticky. They’d decided she’d be the best fit to do the job. Snufkin sees some tears running down Moomin’s face and he once again has to keep himself from running right up there and wiping away his tears.

Joxter is waiting there for him, along with everyone else in the valley. Snorkmaiden and Little My have baskets of flower petals, the latter looking as though she’s about to tear them to shreds. Exactly as Snufkin wanted it. 

Joxter links his arm with Snufkin’s and once again wipes at his eyes, this time not bothering to hide it. Snufkin whispers to him. “Are you crying?”

“... No. Allergies, all this godforsaken pollen.” Joxter clears his throat and they start up to the bridge, following Snorkmaiden and the Flower Murderer.

When he steps up to the bridge in front of Moomin, he barely hears a word Too-ticky says. In fact, he feels as though he’s running on autopilot until Too-ticky’s words process and he realizes she’s holding out two rings and that it’s his turn to say his vows. He clears his throat awkwardly and this makes Moomin laugh, warming Snufkin’s heart. He takes a ring and clutches it in his paws. It’s engraved with images of the valley, of _their_ places in the valley. He begins. 

“When I fell in love with you, it happened… very fast. I first realized it the night after you came out to me when we were in that clearing. You let me practically fall apart in your arms and I realized that I’d never felt safer in any other place. There isn’t a doubt in my mind that I’d felt that way for a very, very long time, but that was the first time I came to terms with it.” A lump forms in his throat and Moomin puts a paw over Snufkin’s. “You’ve shown me how to be vulnerable, how to let myself feel. For that,” he opens his paw and holds the ring, placing it onto Moomin’s finger, “I give you this ring as a symbol of eternal love and gratitude.”

Moomin gives another tiny laugh, wiping at his eyes and taking the other ring from Too-ticky. “I, um… Honestly, I don’t think there was ever a time I didn’t find you absolutely… enthralling. You represented this free spirit, someone who nobody could control or tell what to do. But you also would let me see the sides of you that would hurt or be scared, and it made me realize that… I didn’t ever want that to go away. I didn't want _you_ to go away. And you haven't, even if you leave for the winter you always come back." He places the much smaller ring in comparison to his own onto Snufkin’s finger. “And so, I give you this ring. To show my love and to thank you for always returning.”

The feeling of the metal against Snufkin’s finger almost forces tears to pour out of his eyes. All sound coming from around him is once again cut off and he barely processes what’s happening around him until he’s caught completely off guard by Moomin scooping him up bridal style and giving him a kiss. Snufkin has to scramble to keep his hat on his head. He breaks the connection with a big laugh but rapidly undoes his mistake, pulling Moomin into another kiss. 

He’s completely wrapped in pure happiness, he feels like he could burst.

 

Little My, Snorkmaiden, and Mymble all helped to set up the reception and banquet that Moominmamma helped cook with the assistance of Moominpappa.

Moomin and Snufkin are seated at a small table to themselves. There aren’t many gifts, they both decided the event would be a gift in and of itself. They’re enjoying everyone coming by and talking to them, occasionally leaving small gifts that Snufkin appreciates for their utility, before making their way to the others. 

At one point, Joxter comes by and steals a seat next to Snufkin. He’s silent for a moment before Snufkin sees a tear roll down his cheek, the first one of the night that he’d let get away.

“I’m so proud of you.”

Snufkin has to keep from crying himself at those words, the words he’s never gotten to hear. He wraps his father in a tight hug, letting him cry on his shoulder. After a minute or so of his little meltdown, he leans back and wipes his tears, seemingly trying to shake it all off. He gives them both a tip of the hat before retreating, going to hide near the drinks.

Snufkin watches in amusement as his father scans the room like a hawk.

Then it hits him.

Snufkin’s sitting down when the magnitude of the event hits him, the number of people, the noise, the suit. His paws start tapping the table and Moomin puts a paw over one of them, giving it a little squeeze.

“You alright?”

Snufkin laughs nervously, looking around before speaking. “Hey, uh… What do you say we get out of here for a bit?” He gives Moomin a pleading look as if he was about to unravel at the seams from the absolute volume of everything. Moomin nods and they wait until nobody is looking before dashing off.

They find the clearing from that night in the woods, the one where Moomin held Snufkin close, and they sit. They sit right next to each other, leaning in to give little kisses and whisper sweet nothings, the sunlight breaking through as their only witness.

After a while, Moomin looks as though he’s remembered something and he scrambles to his feet. “Oh, I can’t believe I forgot!” He looks down to Snufkin, regret in his eyes. “We need to get to the cabin.”

“Alright..? Is everything okay?” Snufkin stands, fixing his hat securely on his head. 

Moomin gives no words in response, just a nod, before taking his paw and leading him quickly out of the clearing to the cabin. Moomin stops him in front of the cabin, sitting him down on a bench nestled among some flowers before rushing inside. Snufkin hears Moomin yell from inside.

“Okay, close your eyes!”

Snufkin chuckles and does so, covering his eyes with his paws. He hears Moomin walk out and stand in front of him. “Put your paws out.” Once again, Snufkin follows his command and puts his paws out, his eyes clamped shut. A wooden box of some sort is placed in them. “Okay, open your eyes!”

Snufkin cracks his eyes open and sees a guitar in his paws. It’s old, he can tell, but recently fixed up and taken care of.

“It was Pappa’s. I, um… heard you playing the other day and I asked him. He said you’d be able to appreciate it better than he could.” Moomin takes a seat next to Snufkin, watching his face. “D-Do you like it?”

Snufkin is… speechless. His paws run up and down the wood, feeling the strings and the pegs. “I… I love it. Thank you so much.” He looks to Moomin with a giant, awestruck smile on his face. He turns it in his arms, tuning the strings. “Is there anything you’d like me to play?”

Moomin’s thinking for a while as Snufkin refines the tuning, playing little melodies before he leans into Snufkin and whispers. “Play something that makes you think of me.”

Snufkin smirks, giving his forehead a little kiss. “Alright.” He takes a deep breath, testing the strings one last time before he begins. He plays out the beginning of the melody and starts singing.

_“Edelweiss, edelweiss,_

_Every morning you greet me._

_Small and white, clean and bright,_

_You look happy to meet me._

_Blossom of snow, may you bloom and grow,_

_Bloom and grow forever._

_Edelweiss, edelweiss,_

_Bless my homeland forever.”_

Moomin lets out a giggle, sitting up straight and joining Snufkin in a duet. They sit and sing, not caring to notice that everyone in the forest was watching. Wedding attendees have poked their heads into the edge of the clearing.

They lose themselves in the song, repeating what must have been thousands of times until those who started eavesdropping scattered. It was just them together now, the song bringing the usual hurricane of thoughts in Snufkin’s mind to a quiet stop on one subject. Moomin.

Snufkin has never truly had a clear mind. He doesn’t mind it, especially now that he finally has allowed himself to let his thoughts roam and settle on one thought. His husband. The home they would build in each other’s minds, the way it would hurt when Snufkin would leave but the way all of that hurt would go away the moment they reunited. The way their love would keep them connected through the long, cold winter months. He’s sitting with his husband, the love of his life, playing the guitar and singing about home. He couldn’t ever ask for anything better than this.

A happy ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I'd like to say thank you to everyone who encouraged me and left very kind comments. I'd also like to extend an extra special thanks to those of you who were around from the beginning, or at least very close to it. 
> 
> If you'd ever like to message me, my discord is Darby 💛#0235 and my tumblr is sapphicalchemist.
> 
> You've all made this so worth it and I can't thank you enough.


End file.
